


so how do we win

by torasame



Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: 5 Times, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, M/M, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29677965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torasame/pseuds/torasame
Summary: For as long as Azul can remember, all he ever wanted was to survive.Love, as far as he knew, was never a priority.(Alternatively, five times Azul falls in love and the one time it breaks him).
Relationships: Azul Ashengrotto & Floyd Leech & Jade Leech, Azul Ashengrotto/Floyd Leech, Azul Ashengrotto/Idia Shroud
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	so how do we win

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty late (in my timezone) since this fic was a lot longer than i anticipated. I did manage to get it two minutes before midnight so it still technically is Azul’s birthday.
> 
> It took five drafts and I’m not too proud of it, but it isn’t as bad for a first try.
> 
> This is a bit more friendship centric, but I do like both ships equally. So I’m neither of these ships have been written for the sake of being “angst” material for the other. Just good old fluff and Azul appreciation.
> 
> The title is from “sick of losing soulmates” by dodie. Same thing goes for the little sub titles. 
> 
> Hopefully, I’ll write more about these characters soon and do better next time.
> 
> a special thank you to Jell for providing inside information and for introducing me to my new favourite triad.

**i. what a strange being you are**

Azul turns to the sound of his name from a distance.

“Floyd?” He has to say it a little louder to reach the twin in question. Floyd makes sluggish strides towards him from across the common room, though his impact on the couch frames his previous appearance as a ruse. Floyd falls face first into the cushion beside Azul, his groaning muffles into the pillow before he looks up.

“ _Azuuuul~”_ He cries, his arms wrap around Azul’s waist. Azul does not even think twice about moving away. He opts to sigh, placing a hand on Floyd’s back. 

“Yes?”

Floyd scoots closer, sitting up to kneel, shifting his head to rest on Azul’s shoulder. “Do you have notes for alchemy?”

“Are you actually planning to study for once?” It’s a pointless question, really. Floyd has _never_ sat through a single alchemy class without outwardly projecting his displeasure before promptly falling asleep. Despite that, he has never once failed a single test. He saunters up to the board half-asleep when he’s called and answers like it’s second nature. Azul has long learned to stop worrying about Floyd’s grades, especially since he always somehow manages to score such high marks on the test without much prior revision. He can’t help but envy him sometimes.

As usual, Floyd leans a little too close for comfort, offering a dopey smile to him. “You know me too well for that, Azul. But our teacher is checking our notes and it’s real troublesome to sit through another lecture.”

“You brought it upon yourself.”

Hair brushes against his cheek. Azul huffs quietly, patting the side of Floyd’s head as he burrows into his shoulder blade chanting various alternations of the word “please.”

“ _Azuuuuuulllll~_ Jade won’t lend me his notes but yours are so much better. _Pleaaaseeee?”_

He meets Floyd’s puppy eyes. He wants to laugh a little, but he keeps his face trained still. He almost loses it when Floyd pouts his lower lip. 

“It’s on the right side of my desk,” he says evenly. “You can’t miss it, anyway.”

Floyd looks like he could kiss him. “You’re the best, Tako-chan! Thank you!”

He hops over the back of the couch, bounding towards the direction of the stairs leading up to the dorms. Azul follows his retreating figure, shaking his head quietly when he hears a faint _I owe you one_ echo behind him.

He turns back to the stack of papers in hand, but finds himself unable to understand any of the words he had been reading. He finds himself staring off in the direction of his room, unable to hear what he imagines to be Floyd’s footsteps skipping the stairs two steps at a time. 

The phantom traces of warmth remain around his torso, clinging to his uniform like perfume. It fades just as he notices.

Azul does not know why he blindly reaches out for it when it evaporates into air.

**ii. a superglued human of proof**

It isn’t as hard as it’s made to be. Love, that is. For as far as he knows, it’s quite an arbitrary concept.

It isn’t as poetic, or glamorous as what people often claim it to be. Love in such a rose-coloured view is a foundation built on the shore. It is a plan that is destined for failure. Because like all things in this world, love - in its most efficient form, is something systematic. Love at its best is a symbiotic relationship. Love is not selfless; it is transactional. To find a competent partner is to cross reference their qualities to figure out what you could benefit from them and vice versa.

Love is built on layers and layers of criteria. It is an intricate system with a formula to explain its nuances. The concept needed to attain the goal of a sustainable relationship required by the social nature by which creatures are created in. It’s practically written in genetics, he thinks.

Love, as far as he knows, has never really been a priority. That’s exactly what he tells himself. That’s exactly what he repeats in his mind in an effort to burn it into his brain.

Rationally, this situation isn’t as hard as it’s often made to me. He of all people should know that.

So how why couldn’t he say anything?

“I -” he says, and Floyd has his eyes fixed on him. Azul shifts his gaze to the floor, tracing the lines in the tiles senselessly. He catches a glimpse of Floyd’s shoes - the shoes he bought for him on his birthday. These are one of the times he wishes Floyd didn’t usually stand so close.

He mouths the words without a voice.

Floyd is quiet. Confusion draws on his features like a renaissance painting; subtle, gentle, and every single adjective that no sane person would ever think to associate with him.

It’s never this silent in the movies. It’s never as deafening as the books.

Jade steps in just as Floyd turns to him. Azul does not understand a single word he says - and perhaps he isn’t meant to. It’s the minute reminder of the little world the twins own for themselves; the almost telepathic communication exchanged in wavelengths above his own frequency.

He does not need to hear Jade’s words to understand the look in Floyd’s eyes. Because for once, he can trust himself not to cry.

There is no rubber band flick that sends the dam flooding. There is no neuroticism that settles - no heartbreak that ensues. There is only understanding.

In rationalism, there is no room for remorse or emotions.

There is only truth.

**what the hell would i be?**

Who would have ever thought two years worth of work could vanish in a split second?

Who would have thought the near decade of slaving away, polishing spells to near perfection would all crumple into dust in the wind? Who would have thought a single crack could shatter murals painted on all those glass windows in all those chapels? 

Azul’s voice dies in his throat. The world does not fall apart around him. He feels it turn, throwing him off his axis and threatening to send him crashing onto the floor. Life does not stop for him, it does not offer him theatrics to release his grief. It does not have time to spare him to figure out the storm brewing inside him.

It’s like staring at the calculations on the board to find that one single number that was unaccounted for. It was like presenting the theory of the universe only to find you had made a single, yet crucial mistake. One wrong move, one wrong square and suddenly it’s at a checkmate. The hand is outstretched for him to shake - the shame is there for him to bear.

Laughter erupts from the base of his throat, but his consciousness does not feel like his own. He was pushed into the backseat, watching his vessel laugh in a voice of someone he has never heard before, a voice from a distant town of a stranger he had never met. He laughs at whatever punchline there is, laughs at the cruelty of humour and the inherent lack of it.

He does not know when oblivion takes a hold of him - but he’s grateful it does. He drifts into the familiarity of the cold and the embrace of the dark.

It reminds him of home, somehow.

* * *

“Ah, he’s awake.”

He blinks several times, adjusting to the intensity of the light. There’s a hand on the small of his back and warmth pillowing his head.

“Azul, how many fingers am I holding up?”

Sitting up feels like pushing a boulder up a hill. His head spins for a moment and the hand on his back remains. A body shields his own, readily there in case he falls.

“What… what in the world did I do?” he articulates slowly, like anymore would reduce his mind to putty. Jade crouches in front of him, throwing his own unruined blazer around his shoulders. 

The older of the twins smiles down at him sympathetically. “You used your magic too much and went into Overblot. Do you not remember?”

“You were sucking everyone’s magic while crying ‘ _Give me your powers!_ ’” Floyd says. “You looked so lame. I’m a little disillusioned now.”

He stares down at his hands. His gloves are stained with ink.

Azul sits through the several minutes of lectures, light scolding, and embarrassment. He breathes a little easier now, with the photograph finally in his possession and the reality of it all settling in. He’ll have to salvage what he can and remodel what he has lost, but that’s a problem to be tackled in the near future.

He stares at the picture in his hands.

“It doesn’t matter. I really liked this Azul, you know? He seemed more delicious then compared to now~”

Azul fights the urge to elbow Floyd in the ribs, but it isn’t as though he’s got any energy left to do so. It would also mean losing the steadying arm on his back, and he doesn’t exactly fancy falling over unceremoniously in front of so many people. He’s carrying enough shame as it is.

“That’s not the problem here.” he tries to curl his legs closer to his chest. “Ah, I don’t want this anymore… I want to go back into my octopus pot.”

He doesn’t move until everyone else makes their way out of the dorm. Jade begins taking note of collateral damage and possible repairs. He forces himself upward.

“Azul!”

There’s a searing pain in his legs, burning like a lowly lit candle. Floyd is the only reason why he’s remaining somewhat upright.

“I’m alright.” Azul says when Jade rushes over to them. “You should attend to the first years.”

“Let me handle it, Jade.” Floyd adjusts the arm around his shoulder, positioning it to support more of his weight. “Tako-chan needs a little help getting back to his octopot.”

“It’s fine, Floyd.” He argues. Jade wilts under the order, but Floyd has always been the stubborn one between the two. “Jade will probably need some assistance. I’ll be fine in a few hours or so.”

He leans onto the railings as they ascend the steps. Floyd persistently remains at his side. It doesn’t help that he pauses every time he transfers his weight from one step to another. They’re almost halfway through the staircase when Floyd secures an arm beneath the bend of Azul’s knees, lifting him up carefully. 

“You said Jade’s gonna need some help,” he says before Azul can question him. “It’ll be faster this way.”

The words die on his tongue. He winds his arms around Floyd’s neck, shielding his face in the crook of his neck. There’s splotches of ink on his collar.

“I’m sorry.” He utters, just quiet enough for Floyd to hear. “I’m sorry, Floyd.”

“Thank you,” Floyd replies, his tone flat. Azul swallows past the lump in his throat. “For a little octopus, you can be quite a prince sometimes, you know that?”

He does.

“If you’re apologizing for having me carry you, then apology accepted.” Floyd maneuvers the door open, using his foot to push it wide open and kick it shut. He makes his way through the floor in a trained path. “Unless you’re apologizing for a bit more than that.”

“I’m sorry for having you and Jade go through the trouble.”

Floyd sets him down in the porcelain tub, reaching over for the knobs. He manages to switch them on despite the darkness of the room. “Trouble follows you wherever you go, if you haven’t already noticed.”

The flames subside once the water pools at his ankles. He keeps his eyes fixed on Floyd, who walks over to switch the lights on. He returns to sit by the side of the tub. “It comes with being your friend. Jade and I aren’t complaining or anything. We’d be long gone if we were.”

“I know.”

“You always know, don’t you, little Tako-chan?” He manages a scoff.

“Well, I don’t know everything.”

Floyd smiles. “It’s good you know that too.”

He lets out a breathless laugh. “I guess.”

His legs slowly begin to morph. He’s already grown accustomed to staring up at the bare ceiling.

“Azul?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you like me?”

He looks over at Floyd, his surprise dulled by the exhaustion taking over him. Floyd watches him evenly, resting his elbows on his drawn up knees. He doesn’t say anything for a while, and neither does Floyd. He doesn’t think he’d be able to even if he could.

“Sorry, don’t mind that.” Floyd breaks the lapsed silence. He’s never been the type to handle it well, anyway. He dusts off his trousers. “I should go help Jade now. Just shout if you need anything, okay?”

Azul nods meekly and Floyd leaves the room.

He stares at the space Floyd once occupied only seconds ago, pondering on the words that have long settled into the atmosphere.

Azul closes his eyes.

Eternities pass.

He still does not know the answer to Floyd’s question.

**iii. so where do we begin?**

Contrary to popular belief, chess has and still does continue to baffle him.

He isn’t the most terrible player in the world. Decent would probably be the best term for his case. He wins and he loses just as everyone else does, but the latter happens too much for his liking.

He rests his forehead on his palm. Perhaps Azul _is_ a good chess player. Perhaps the problem lies instead, to the main contributor to his losing streak -

“That’s mate in three.”

Azul sighs. “Thank you for saving me the effort.”

His upperclassman shrugs. “I would’ve ended it a lot quicker, but you looked like you were having fun.”

Idia picks up his pieces, breaking down the next three plays until he would have successfully trapped Azul’s king. Azul keeps his eyes on the board, half absorbing the words. Chess is already an intellectual game in itself, which does bring cause to the inherent rigidness Azul feels when playing. It’s a bit like the rubik’s cube in that sense. One could simply learn to outmaneuver their opponent, but to grow proficient enough in the field one would have to recognize most, if not all the algorithms and patterns. Your moves are confined, calculated and almost predetermined. A simply complicated game, in short. A game that Azul simply does not understand the maths enough for.

“Let’s play another game,” Idia says, twirling his own king between his fingers. “You don’t look very determined to beat me anymore.”

“It isn’t conceited to know when you’ve been beat.”

They store away their pieces, folding up the chessboard and setting it aside. 

“You know,” Idia starts, breaking Azul out of his trance, “your personality is really chess-like, and yet, you aren’t as good at the game itself.”

Azul scoffs, replying flatly, “thank you for pointing out the obvious.”

“It’s not a bad thing, really. You’re a lot better at me at a few other games like,” he pulls a box from underneath a pile of board games, “like monopoly for example. I guess it falls in your area of expertise, but it says something about you, in a sense.”

“Would you fancy a round of monopoly, then?”

Idia laughs, “Heck no. That’s about the same as me challenging you to chess again.” He pulls out a deck of personalized cards. Azul lets out a resigned sigh when he recognizes it to be patterned after one of Idia’s animes. “How about poker? Have you played before?”

“The twins have tried playing in the past, but we’ve always stayed away from it.” His mother had instilled the danger of gambling from him at an early age.

“As expected of you,” Idia says almost fondly, “but we don’t have to bet anything. Just think about this in video game currency or something. Like points instead of money.”

Azul watches Idia shuffle the cards, taking the deck once Idia offers it to him and imitating the little tricks Idia had done. The cards stack onto one another with a satisfying sound. He hands them back to Idia. “I think it’d be easier for me to picture it as money. That’s what makes the game so appealing, after all.”

“I guess you’re right.” Idia deals them a pair of cards. “I’ll show you the basics before we try playing. Normally, there’d be more people, but it’d be pretty bothersome.”

Idia runs through the combinations, placing the community cards onto the table as they go along. Azul bets per instruction considering the fact that it is just a test run. He places a few more brightly coloured chips (which they stole from some other game) toward the pile. Idia deals the turn and calls for the final bet. Azul raises.

They turn their cards over and bet one last time before Idia reveals the river. Idia lets out a low whistle.

“That’s a royal flush.”

Azul picks up the ace and king in his hand, staring at the cards to match in the centre of the table. “It is.” he says almost breathlessly.

“It’s a pretty mathematical game, so I wouldn’t expect any less from you, though I do hope you didn’t lose all your luck for this trial run.” Idia collects the cards, shuffling them together once more. 

Azul arranged the chips into their original piles, handling his own as though they were a stack of coins in the lounge. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. If anything, I’ve always considered myself to be quite unlucky.”

Idia hands him his own cards, a knowing gaze in his blue eyes. “You know, I would have probably said the same thing.”

**iv. won’t be alone again**

“Do you want anything?”

He looks up from his book to find Idia glancing over his shoulder; his match seems to have just ended. “What do you mean?”

“For your birthday, that is.”

“You don’t have to get me anything,” Azul says, placing the book on his lap and leaning further against the headboard. 

Idia offers him a blank stare as he adjusts his headphones to rest on his shoulders. “You got me something for my birthday.” He gestures to the cup on the bedside table. “And you didn’t answer the question.”

“I wouldn’t want you going out to spend on something for me,” Azul argues. “And there isn’t anything I want in particular. Nothing material, that is. I’ve been planning on making adjustments to the Lounge and finding a better marketing strategy lately, so unless you have any advice on the latter then I’d stick to my answer.”

Idia places his controller down, standing from where he was sitting on the floor to situate himself in front of Azul. “Don’t you want anything that doesn’t relate to business?”

“Nothing comes to mind.” Azul says honestly, “I’m pretty one track minded. Everything I would ‘want’ per say, would end up relating to my goal one way or another.”

“Well the soon-to-be best wizard of all time should probably want a thing or two.” He sets the book down on the bed when Idia leans forward into his arms. He can’t help but flush a little when he feels the soft lips press against his. Idia’s hands are cupping his face despite the brevity of the kiss. When it ends, Idia’s face lingers mere centimetres away from his own. He looks at Azul expectantly.

Azul contorts his expression to mimic that of deep thought, humming as though he were weighing the options. “Maybe I’m fine with what I have right now.”

He laughs when Idia looks unimpressed. “I’m serious, though!”

“I’m not moving until I get an answer.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to.” Azul reaches up to brush the strands of hair congregating Idia’s forehead. “If that doesn’t suffice as an answer, maybe you’ll just have to kiss me again.”

And he does, though Azul still does not find an answer.

Or maybe it isn’t an answer he’s willing to admit out loud. Something he can’t express into words and something he still struggles to open up to. Or maybe it’s just a little too corny, who knows?

He isn’t lying when he says he’s got a one track mind. For as long as he can remember, all he’s ever really wanted was to achieve his goal. He worked up the steps, studied spells to near perfection, and dedicated whatever time he could spare to improve himself. Everything he does - everything he _is_ serves for the purpose of becoming the best. Of showing up this unequal world and its hopeless system built on power. Of laughing in the face of all those who claim that all creatures are created equal.

In this insatiable world, one must be strong enough to be at the top of the food chain. One must be the apex predator. To live comfortably in this cruel world, one must stand over everyone else.

And for as long as he can remember, all Azul ever wanted was to survive.

There’s a kiss on the tip of his nose, on his cheek and forehead, then a final one on his lips. It’s enough to bring him back to the present. It’s enough to help him begin to realize a few things.

Because that’s how it often is with Idia. 

He is the perspective to Azul’s one-track mind. He is the overpass to Azul’s occasional tunnel vision. He’s the person who thinks for himself, someone who does not follow the tide of idealism that usually sweeps over the crowd.

Idia is unconventional. He’s lazy, but he isn’t incompetent. His nature makes him want to find an easier way to do things, a way to optimize the world around him so he can exert the least amount of effort as possible. He’s laid back, but hardworking in his interests. He doesn’t mind what people think of him and shys away from drawing attention to himself. He has the tendency to not think much of his achievements and is really humble in the face of compliments.

“You’re too nice to me,” Azul says in between kisses. He feels a little smaller than he should right now. Idia’s hoodie is too long for his arms with Idia himself being a head taller than him, easily encasing Azul in his arms. “And you’re a classic romantic, which is the good kind.”

Idia huffs, “speak for yourself. You’re no less of a sappy teenage boy. Or any less of any aspect of being a teenage boy.”

He cocks his head to the side.

“You’re a lot more mature than I am,” Idia says quietly, “which is fine. I like that about you, you’re the order in my mess of a life. You always have your intentions straight and have aspirations you want to achieve and a plan to execute them. But sometimes I feel like you’re making yourself grow up too quickly.”

A hand encases his own. Idia raises his knuckles up to his lips. “These are the only years we have before we have to work ourselves to death. We’re still just kids, you know. We deserve to live life as much as we can before we have to live up to the world’s ideals. You should live the way you want to, live your life like it’s your own. I’m not saying your goals are bad, but you should be allowed to want things. To want more than a sustainable future. You’re allowed to want to eat certain food; to watch movies people hate. You’re allowed to want trivial things. You’re allowed to make mistakes. You’re allowed to laugh at jokes even if no one else finds them funny. You’re allowed to take a break and indulge yourself. You’re within rights to ask for more from life.”

Azul swallows past the dryness of his throat. His chest is a little tighter than he’d like. He feels so much smaller now.

For as long as he can remember, all Azul ever wanted was to survive.

Love, as far as he knew, was never a priority.

But perhaps it can become one now, along with some other things.

“Idia,” he says, “your match is about to start.”

Idia scrambles off the bed, falling unceremoniously on the floor, hurriedly reaching for the controller and screaming about customizing his settings. Laughter does not come easily, but maybe something else takes it place. Something like endearment.

He reaches over for his book, flicking to the page where he had last left off.

**v. we will grow old as friends**

Azul stares hopelessly into his closet.

There are a pile of shirts and trousers on his bed, all in their own organized mess. He doesn’t think he can trust himself or the reflection in the mirror. He swears he’s questioned the colour of his own eyes about three times by now. He’s questioned it among other things he does not want to ponder on.

He hears his door creak open. Azul does not have to turn to know who it is.

“Azul~ Jade sent me up here to check on you. I was wondering why he was covering for you back in the lounge - are we opening up a clothing shop next?”

He takes a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Although Jade does owe me a favour, I still feel a bit guilty having him manage the Lounge. I’ll make it up to him later, somehow. And no, I’m just terribly indecisive.”

Floyd plops himself down on an unoccupied area of his bed. He examines the pairs of clothes before turning back to Azul. “Where are you going looking all fancy? What’s the occasion?”

Azul straightens out a crease on his dress shirt for the nth time. The fit probably looked awkward on him. “I’m going on a date with Idia.”

Even with his back turned to him, he can practically _feel_ Floyd cooing. “Our little tako-chan! Oh where’s Jade when you need him? I think I’m going to faint!” There’s a quiet thud behind him, accompanied with peals of giggling. 

“You are such a middle-schooler.” Azul points out. Floyd raises his head, his face still glowing with laughter.

“If I’m a middle-schooler, then you’re a kindergartner! Look at you and your flushed cheeks! It’s too much for me, I can’t take it!”

Azul kicks him in the shin in futile effort. Floyd wheezes to catch his breath.

“But what’s the problem anyway? Knowing you, you’d be like half an hour early or something.”

He crosses his arms, inhaling deeply. He lets out a breath like it was nicotine. “You are sitting with the exhibit of my previously mentioned indecisiveness.”

Floyd sits up, crossing his legs and looking him straight in the eye. “You can’t decide what to wear?”

It's a rhetorical question he doesn’t have a witty response to. He’s beginning to fidget with the sleeves. Maybe they could reschedule or something. He’s sure Idia wouldn’t mind it -

“I don’t see what’s wrong with what you’re wearing right now.” Floyd says, in place of the tease Azul imagines in his head. His tone isn’t entirely serious, but it isn’t light-hearted either. He says it like it’s mere fact. “I think you look very handsome.”

Azul consciously blinks. His mind goes blank. He feels like a statue, frozen in place.

Floyd stands up, taking a few steps to stand in front of Azul. He reaches to fold Azul’s sleeves up to his elbows neatly before adjusting his shirt collar. Floyd pats down his shoulders and offers a satisfied smile.

“There we go,” he says triumphantly. He turns Azul around to face the mirror. “Have a look at yourself. Ah! People will wonder _what’s this student doing next to this professional?_ I should ask you for an autograph to boast about or something.”

There’s a tenderness in Floyd’s expression when he smiles like that. Floyd already has a subtle softness to him despite the crassness he often carries, but it grows more pronounced in his genuinity. Azul can’t help but be a little flustered.

In those few moments, he learns to love Floyd in words he has finally found. He falls in love his first love in another wavelength. He falls in love with their friendship, with Floyd’s comforting presence and his unwavering honesty. He falls in love with the demure chivalry that seeps through the cracks once in a blue moon.

He finds love again in their shared past. He loves Floyd just as much as he loves Jade. He loves them in poetry that can never be written and in pictures he can never bring himself to erase.

But it’s a sentiment he’ll have to share some other time. Preferably when neither are in any state to remember his professions.

Azul laughs. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re going to be late.” 

He glances down at his wristwatch. “I’ll make it in time.”

Floyd opens the door for him. He barely has time to roll his eyes when they’re pacing down the stairs. They stop by the Lounge to find Jade greeting them by the entrance.

“Jade! Our little octopus is growing up so fast,” Floyd cries dramatically, walking over to his brother’s side.

“There, there Floyd. Do you need my handkerchief?” 

“No,” Floyd sniffs loudly. “I’ll be fine!”

Jade wipes his own imaginary tears. “I wish you luck on your date, Azul.”

“You don’t have to announce it so loud, Jade.”

“You’re making it sound too real!”

Jade chuckles, patting Floyd on the shoulder. “My apologies.”

“Well, I best be off then. Thank you for managing on my behalf. I leave things in your care.”

“Stay safe Tako-chan! Be home before midnight! Don’t talk to strangers!”

“Use protection!”

He takes a sharp turn.

Floyd’s charade crumples. “A scandalous notion, brother mine! Oh catch me I think I’m going to faint!”

“You two!”

**_i. a break does exactly what it says on the tin_**

The end finds them in the final months of the school year.

They stand a precalculated distance away from one another. The expression on Idia’s face is drawn with mild anxiety, and as for his own, he does not know what to make of it. 

It isn’t as hard as it’s often portrayed to be. But then again, Azul has probably grown used to living past these clichés.

Life continues. The world remains cruel and it laughs at its bitter joke. Azul tunes out of its humour. He knows better than to laugh at the punchline.

“I’m sorry, Azul.”

“Don’t be.” He says, voice full and unwavering. “It was good while it lasted.”

There is no cursing, no lingering remorse. There is no rain he wishes would stop, no lightning clapping for the unavailable and nonexistent heartbreaking performance.

There is only rationalism.

There is only truth.

He outstretches his hand. “Thank you for everything, Idia-san.”

The hand that takes his own is warm. Some part of Azul wishes it was enough to burn.

He thinks Idia is going to pull him into a hug.

He doesn’t. Azul understands.

They don’t need to draw it out for longer any longer than it needs to be.

So with that, Azul walks away.

* * *

There’s a knock on his door.

“Oh, Azul. I didn’t know you were back yet.” Jade shuts the door softly behind him. “It’s strange to find you in your room at this time, but I make the habit of checking in just to be sure.”

He sets his papers down. “Oh. Thank you, Jade. Did you need anything?”

“No, I’m just checking in per usual.” He walks over and takes the seat by Azul’s desk. “Is that paperwork for the Lounge?”

“I had a bit of free time on my hands. I might as well attend to it.”

“Aren’t you usually with Idia-san at this time? It is a Friday, after all.”

“Idia-san and I are no longer together.”

Jade sits up straighter. “What happened?”

“He said he didn’t want any of his family’s misfortune to come upon me. He didn’t want to pursue the relationship at the expense of my suffering.” And he was right. He had every right to be cautious. It’s logic he cannot argue against.

For once, he wishes he could. He wishes he could be ignorant enough to curse him, to beg and offer optimism. He wishes he could be stubborn enough to insist.

But he knows better than that.

And yet -

“I anticipated this would happen. I did everything I could - but in hindsight, it truly wouldn’t have been enough. I told myself that maybe, just maybe, things would be alright. Because it isn’t as though either of us had a fault or were insufficient in any way. If it came down to circumstance, we would have been able to control the outcome.” His voice remains even but he does not think he can handle looking Jade in the eye when he says it.

Jade walks over to sit beside him on his bed. There’s a gentle hand on his shoulder blade. 

“But Idia didn’t want to take that risk, and I didn’t have the heart to push him to think otherwise. It’s been plaguing him for some time now, discussing it further would just be salt in the wound.” Because Idia is too nice, too caring, and too good. Idia deserves far better than cliched profanities and crocodile tears.

And part of him still wants to hate him because of it. Because Idia is no superhero. Because love is not selfless and self sacrificing. Because he and Idia are not the protagonists of this story. Because he and Idia are both villains, both twisted and cruel just like the world plays them out to be. Because Idia is cursed and Azul is just a poor unfortunate soul.

They were never meant to have a fairytale romance and a happy-ever-after.

But they could have defied the narrative.

They could have suffered together.

Because what difference would it have made?

He shakes his head and groans. It’s all hypocritical and far too poetic. He doesn’t have the time to be irrational. He’s still got so much work to do. It shouldn’t be as difficult as it's portrayed to be.

“I’m alright now, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He raises his head to meet Jade’s unplaceable gaze. That’s the subtle difference between him and Floyd. His stare is always opaque in contrast to Floyd’s ever present transparency. After all these years, Azul cannot accurately trace the thoughts behind Jade’s eyes.

“That’s good to hear,” he says calmly. “But you must still be recovering from the shock. Come on, let’s go down to the Lounge and I’ll make something to help you feel better. I found a new recipe I wanted to add to the menu.”

Jade pushes himself off the bed in one fluid motion. He offers a gloved hand to Azul, watching him expectantly. 

All Azul can do is stare when an uncomfortably loud silence lapses between them. That’s another difference between the twins - where Floyd breaks under the first few moments, Jade can sit and wait for as long as he needs to. He can condemn Azul without saying a single word.

The hand drops to Jade’s side.

“Azul.”

The first drop rolls down his cheek and stains the covers. The crack is made, the dam floods and the glass shatters.

There are arms around him. Jade guides his face into the shoulder of his blazer. The tears don’t stop coming.

“I haven’t changed at all,” he admits with a laugh. Oh, the irony of it all. “I’m still just crybaby Azul. Isn’t that right, Jade?”

“Maybe you are,” Jade replies honestly. “But there’s nothing wrong with it. Floyd and I like the crybaby Azul.”

Jade shields him in an embrace, running a hand up and down the back of his head. “We like him because he doesn’t pretend to be something he isn’t. We both like him because we both know when he isn’t okay.” He offers Azul his handkerchief with his free hand. “When we were younger, your mother dragged us both aside once. She thanked us for being your friends and made us promise to look after you. I agreed of course and so did Floyd. But I will never forget what he said to her. _‘Azul doesn’t need to be looked after. In fact, I think it’s the other way around. He’s the one taking care of us, you know. But alright, Tako-san, we’ll keep him out of trouble.’”_

He lets out a watery chuckle, “that’s Floyd for you.”

“That’s right,” Jade adds fondly. “And we both know Floyd does not have the capacity to lie.”

Azul wipes his eyes.

The arms unravel, he shifts to sit in front of the older of the twins. He folds his handkerchief before handing it back to him.

“Thank you, Jade.”

“No. Thank you, Azul.” A kind smile. “Thank you for telling me you aren’t okay.”

**what the hell would i be (without you?)**

“ _Tako-chan~ Wakey wakey~”_

He blinks himself awake, struggling to keep his eyes open. Was his room always this bright in the morning?

He puts a hand over his eyes. His curtains are drawn open.

Floyd materializes before his eyes, clad in his pajamas and bed hair. “Good morning, tako-chan.”

Azul pushes himself against the headboard, stretching his arms over his head until his joints pop. Floyd sits himself by his bedside, placing a tray on his lap. “Breakfast is served.”

He blinks at the food sitting in front of him before turning back to Floyd. “Alright, what did you break this time?”

“You think too little of me, Azul!” he pouts his lower lip, crossing his arms like a toddler. “I came up here to serve you breakfast from the kindness of my heart - “

Azul reaches over to pinch his cheek, stretching it a little more than necessary. “Thank you, Floyd.”

“I’m never doing this again,” Floyd cries, rubbing his cheek dejectedly.

He offers half of his sandwich to Floyd as compensation. His loyalty is restored instantly.

“Hey Azul, it’s really bright out today. It’s weird how it reached all the way to our dorm, don’t you think?”

“That _is_ quite odd.”

“Ah, the weather must be really great outside. Perfect timing too. Hey, hey Azul, let’s go out today.”

His features crease slightly. “But the Lounge - “

“Jade said he’s alright with handling it today. He said something about a new recipe for the menu.” Floyd bounces off the bed, taking the tray from him and setting it down on the bedside table. “Come on! It’ll be fun!”

He sighs, maneuvering himself to get out of bed. His legs hang over the sides, unmoving. It’s only to be expected.

“Azul?”

“I,” he forces the words out of his throat. “I can’t stand up.”

Wordlessly, Floyd hooks an arm under his knees and on his back. He isn’t sure if he imagines the quiet “I know.”

Floyd sets him down in the bathtub, going out of the room to collect the clothes Azul asked for.

“It sounds like a good idea,” Azul says once Floyd sets his clothes down on the sink counter. “Going out. I’d like that.”

“Thought you would,” Floyd doesn’t squat down on the floor like last time. “I’ll go get ready too, I’ll be back before you know it.”

Azul reaches to switch off the taps. The water pools just above his elbows. He removes himself from yesterday’s clothes, sitting bare with himself. He regains feeling in his lower body once his legs morph, but the slight pain lingers despite it.

He’s going to have to get a grip. He can’t waste the day wallowing in a cocoon of blankets, and he certainly can’t keep up this track record of absences from the Lounge. Though, he presumes today really is an exception since Jade must have something to do with the grand scheme of things. It would be a fruitless effort to argue with him once he’s made up his mind.

He morphs his limbs back into legs after a good soak. He supposes glass shard-like pain is better than numbness. 

Azul leans on the walls as he dries himself off. He changes into his clothes, cleaning as much as he can as he goes.

He doesn’t let Floyd carry him down the stairs this time. He forces one foot in front of the other, unabashedly thankful for the supporting hand on the small of his back. Floyd leads them out of the dorm and onto the outdoor grounds of the campus.

Azul is sure he’s never seen skies so clear before.

* * *

“Oh, look over there! Isn’t that Goldfish-chan?”

The redhead in question tenses, turning his head comically stiff in their direction. He lets out a breath of relief when he spots Azul.

“By the Queen, I’m glad you’re here, Azul.”

Azul laughs. “It’s good to see you, Riddle.”

“Eh~ Are you not glad to see me, Goldfish-chan?”

Riddle scoffs, “keep dreaming, Leech.” 

“What’ve you guys got going on here?” Floyd says, overlooking Riddle’s sneer. Azul cranes his head at the round table set up by Heartsbyul’s rose maze. 

“We’re having a friendly poker game,” Trey replies, emerging from behind Riddle. “Do you want to join us?”

“Sounds fun!” Floyd turns to him, looking like he spoke too soon. “Do you want to join too, Azul? I could teach you - “

“It’s fine. Idia-san taught me how to play.” He gives Floyd credit for not wincing at the name as Riddle does.

“Alright then.”

Floyd pulls the seat out for him. He gives him a quiet thank you, declining further assistance when he moves to sit down.

“It’s been quite a while since we sat down together,” Riddle says from across him. “Are you doing alright?”

“Just a little under the weather.” Riddle nods. Whatever he wants to ask remains unsaid. Azul isn’t sure if he’s grateful, but he supposes they’ll have that talk some other time.

“We could do a slight dorm vs dorm, seeing as it’s just the four of us.” Trey says, nominating himself as the dealer. He shuffles the cards almost expertly, with far more complicated tricks than Idia had once taught him. “Though you could count it as an individual win, this is just to avoid sudden alliances.”

“Somehow, I have a feeling you’re scared Riddle will abandon you for me.”

Trey chuckles, “well it’s happened before.”

“It’s called strategy,” Azul chimes. “He’s the best at flying, it would only be natural to partner with him.”

“You two are too much brain power in one partnership. Sea Turtle-senpai is restoring order.”

Trey deals them each a hand before the banter can heat up.

The first rounds aren’t as intense. It’s breaking the ice and getting a feel of each player’s playing style. Riddle has probably grasped the basic math at this point, but he’s the easiest to read. He flushes when he bluffs and has a dead stare that gives away his thoughts. To his surprise, Trey is a lot more difficult to decipher. His niceness translates into his play and has often tempted Azul to assume the odds are a lot higher than they should be.

They lose smaller piles mostly due to probability, but they manage to bluff every now and again. Neither of them need any visual cues to figure out what to do next which, in normal circumstances, would benefit them if it weren’t for the similar dynamic playing them on the other side of the table. Though Riddle seems to rely a little too heavily on Trey on certain calls.

Despite this, Azul cannot bring himself to go all in. Even when the numbers are stacked 90 to 10,even when the stakes are high and he has the greatest probability of winning. Azul can’t help but falter, keeping his cards beneath the palm of his hand. He tells Trey he’s just waiting for the pile to increase in value - he tells himself he’s just waiting for that singular moment to take it all.

And it arrives just when Trey sacrifices his pile to Riddle. It arrives and the odds are stacked in favour for him once the flop has been dealt. Riddle is just about desperate, raising his bet just before the turn is revealed. He does not know what Floyd’s cards are, but he knows, by elimination, that they could be enough to win against Riddle.

Azul pressures Riddle to go all in. The cards are a ten, queen, jack. The turn reveals a seven. Azul drew a pair and chances are, Floyd has one as well. Both Floyd and Riddle are all in. If he folds, both he and Floyd could take the game.

“I fold.”

Riddle smirks haughtily and Azul remains stunned. He stares at Floyd in speechless disbelief. Floyd meets his gaze evenly, without any trace of emotion. Azul turns to the cards on the table.

The river is a six. Riddle has a nine and a three.

Azul turns over his pair of eights.

He wins the game.

“That was well played,” Trey says, adjusting his glasses to examine the scene. 

Riddle crosses his arms, “if I had to lose against someone, I’m honoured that it would be against someone of high regard.” He offers his hand to Azul. “Congratulations, dear friend.”

“Oi, Goldfish-chan! I could have totally wiped you out.”

Riddle scoffs, “a blatant lie.”

Floyd turns his hand over to reveal a seven and a nine, sticking his tongue out at Heartsbyul’s fuming dorm leader.

“Thank you for the game,” Azul says, inclining his head to bow toward Riddle and Trey. “That was a lot of fun.”

“Are you both heading somewhere for the rest of the day?” Trey asks.

“Nah, I just wanted to head out and enjoy the scenery,” Floyd says, sounding quite relaxed. “I get antsy staying in one place. I’ve gotta walk our little Azul over here too.”

He swats him on the elbow. “In my mind, it’s the other way around.”

“Are you going to be alright?” Riddle adds, verbally gesturing to Azul’s stature. He hadn’t ever noticed the arm wrapped around his shoulder.

“I’ll be fine, Riddle. We should catch up soon.”

Riddle resigns to an understanding smile. “I’d like that.”

They wave the duo goodbye and continue down through the campus grounds. Azul manages a somewhat even stride, even if he has to limp every now and again. Floyd’s arm remains by his back.

“Floyd.”

Floyd raises his eyebrows in acknowledgement.

“Why did you fold?”

The answer is almost instantaneous. “Why were you about to?”

They come to a stop. Floyd continues, “I know you were going to, don’t deny it.”

“I wasn’t going to.” He says, not trusting his answer. “We would have won either way.”

“It was a point thirty-three percent tie between Riddle and I,” Floyd interjects. “It only raised to five percent by the time the seven was revealed. Had it been any other card, I would have lost.”

Azul can’t help but wince at the accuracy. That’s the demure intelligence Floyd so often hides. It isn’t just the statistics that get him, however. It’s the reality that Floyd admittedly confesses the greater probability of his loss.

Floyd has always been the person who could turn the situation around. He was the socialite in their group of three, the jack-of-all-trades that could learn any new skill he put his mind to. Floyd was never one to take no for an answer, he was the one who managed to find options, possibilities. In Jade’s words: Floyd never loses, he just chooses not to win.

It’s comical, almost. But the atmosphere is far too dense.

“We won, nevertheless.”

“But we might not have.” He’s dug his own grave at this point. Because while he looks at the end, Floyd emphasizes the means. He wants to know how they got there and all the possibilities and alternative outcomes. He isn’t satisfied with this singular outcome. It was reckless of him to use this argument. Azul has corned himself.

“You would’ve folded unless I forced you to go in. You did fine for the first few bets and then you started hesitating. I know you were doing the math because you hate leaving it all to luck, and even with the numbers, you held back. I don’t know what exactly happened between you and Idia-senpai, but I know enough to know that you aren’t as cursed as you think you are. Not every good thing will result in something worse, you of all people should know that.”

“Things will happen when they do, and we shouldn’t draw conclusions to justify it based on superstition. You think all good things will come crashing down, which is why you’re scared of investing too much - you’re afraid to feel too much. You think the universe has something against your happiness and maybe it does. Maybe it has something about everyone being happy but that shouldn’t stop us from cherishing what we have. If things fall apart then at least you had a good laugh, right? All in all, what I’m saying is that you shouldn’t worry about the so-called ‘bad luck’ that’s lingering over your head, because people are going to hurt when they have to. It’s something we all can’t escape.”

Azul coughs awkwardly. It does nothing to ease the tightening in his chest. “When did you get so wise, Floyd?”

“Someone had to be,” Floyd says easily. “And if you’re wondering why I chose to lose, it’s really a lot simpler than you think.”

He brushes the hair out of Azul’s eyes. He’s been meaning to get it cut for sometime. “Sometimes, you have to lose to see someone smile again.”

Azul feels the heat on his cheeks, his glasses are fogging a little. He wants to shield himself from the way Floyd looks at him. It’s all too serious, too real.

“You’re starting to sound like those sappy romcom novels,” he says, trying to cut through the atmosphere.

“Ah, but it made our little Tako-chan bright like a tomato.”

He turns his heel, miraculously remaining upright despite the pain. “That’s it, I’m going back to the Lounge.”

“Azul!” Floyd cries in his giggling fit. “Slow down, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

He turns his face away when Floyd reaches over to help him, supporting his weight a little more than before.

“But I mean it though,” Floyd says quietly, like his words were made for Azul alone.

Azul keeps his gaze fixed on the cobblestone pavement. “I know.”

They walk around outside for a little longer.

**i won’t take no for an answer**

“You wanted to see me?”

“You don’t need to be so uptight, Radish-senpai. I don’t bite.” Floyd says, gesturing for him to take the seat across from him. Idia still looks around skeptically, but Floyd doesn’t blame him. They are in an empty classroom, after all.

“Did something happen to Azul?”

Floyd leans back into the chair, balancing on its two hind legs. “He’s doing better.”

Idia unwinds slightly. “That’s good to know.”

“I don’t want to make this awkward or anything,” Floyd starts, knowing Idia’s conversational capacity isn’t the best. “I know you have your reasons and I’m not here to guilt trip you. You’re a cool person, senpai, and I respect you a lot. You were able to love Azul in the way that I couldn’t and you were, and still are good to him. But I needed to know if you broke it off for his sake and not because of your own personal cowardice.”

Idia does not flinch at his words or his tone. He commends him for that. He notices he’s a lot calmer than he would have been months ago. He isn’t fidgeting with his fingers or looking off to the side - he’s looking Floyd head-on. He can’t help but feel a swell of pride for what his best friend has done for his upperclassmen.

“Truthfully, even I can’t confidently choose one without the other, but I do know for sure that I did it for Azul. I don’t want to be conceited and say it gallantly, because the decision could have very well been influenced by some level of my own fears. But I know that I never had the intention of hurting Azul. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing I consciously put him in harm's way.” Idia says without a single stutter. “The situation is one I cannot expound on, so you’ll have to take my word for it.”

“I trust you,” Floyd replies, and it is nothing but the truth. He lands the chair back on its front legs. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“I understand,” Idia says, solemn.

“That’s all I wanted to know. Thanks for coming on such short notice, Radish-senpai.” He stands up, pushing his chair out to make room. He offers his hand in the space between them. “Thank you for your honesty.”

Idia takes his hand. The handshake is firmer than he expects.

“Floyd.”

“Hm?”

“Azul never really stopped loving you. And I don’t mean it entirely romantically.”

“I know.” Floyd says. “He still loves you too. Romantically, that is.”

Idia nods. “I might need some more time.”

Floyd pats him on the shoulder. “Take it easy.”

“And it isn’t admirable, you know,” Idia continues. “Reciprocating his feelings isn’t a matter of bravery. Telling him he is loved isn’t a great feat. It isn’t about courage, seeing as I am the coward here. Though, I think we both know he needs to hear it more often.”

“I see.” Floyd turns it over in his mind, smiling a little. “Thank you again.”

“I should be the one thanking you.” Idia is smiling a little too. “It’s your turn to take care of him now.”

He laughs. “If anything, he’s been taking care of me.”

“That’s just how he is, isn’t he?”

Floyd can’t help but agree.

**\+ so how do we win?**

Azul’s soul nearly jumps out of his skin when something tackles him from behind.

“ _Azuuuullll~”_

He breathes a sigh of relief. “You startled me, Floyd. What’s gotten into you? I was expecting your report fifteen minutes ago - “

There’s a head nuzzling into the fabric of his shoulder. “I love you.”

Heterochromatic eyes meet his own. He sighs. “Love will not earn us money, Floyd.”

The arms around his waist tighten. “But _Azuuuuul.”_

He pats the side of his head consolingly. “Get back to work, Floyd.” He can’t deny the gentle smile tugging on his lips.

“ _Oya oya,_ even I don’t get ‘I love you’s from my own brother.”

Floyd untangles himself from him, dashing over to throw his arms around his twin. “Jade! I love you! Please do my work for me~”

Azul shakes his head. “Don’t spoil him, Jade.”

“I should be saying the same thing to you, Azul.”

“Hey, hey, let’s go get ice cream or something. Azul’s treat!”

Jade raises his fingers to his chin. “That does sound quite appealing. I have to agree with my brother on that prospect.”

“You two!” he says without any trace of malice. He can’t help the amusement creeping up on him. He’s been way too soft on them these days. “Fine, but you both owe me big time.”

They salute in unison. It’s way too coordinated. “Yessir! We’ll get work done double time. Jade! What flavour do you want to try? There’s this new ice cream parlour nearby and I heard it’s really good.”

“Is that so?”

Azul organizes his papers, tapping them against the table to even them out. He sets them aside, making his way over to where the two twins are chatting away animatedly. He has to convince them not to start skipping around like children. It isn’t enough to stop them, however. 

But he laughs, resigning to crossing his arms in amusement when they link arms and skip along the sidewalk. They’re both too ridiculous for their own good, but Azul isn’t complaining. He’ll probably never have enough authority to get them to listen to him and that’s fine by him.

Despite all his efforts, Azul will never win against them.

And for now, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Please don’t take my word on Poker my knowledge is solely based on crudely analyzed games. 
> 
> Also: I did include a personal headcanon based off the original My Little Mermaid by Hans Christain Andersson. Every step the mermaid took on land felt like the equivalent of stepping on shards of glass. So, as seen in the fic, I gave that quality to Azul whenever he experiences experiences periods of great turmoil. Just a some weird trivia for the day.
> 
> I also wanted to point out a small detail I really enjoyed incorporating. Floyd was the first of the twins to reach out Azul. He was also the first person Azul heard when he woke up from his overblot so I sort of saw it as “Floyd being the first person Azul sees when he gets out of darkness” or when he wakes up and all that. It sounded a lot better in my head.
> 
> Idia is also one of the characters I enjoy a lot which definitely isn’t a bias to characters played by Uchiyama-sensei. I enjoyed writing about him and I think I still have quite a way to go in terms of getting his personality right. I did have to refer to personality theory (as I often do). 
> 
> This was a (somewhat) fun experiment I will probably never attempt again. But I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading. Hope you all are doing alright :)
> 
> I post fic updates on [my twitter](https://twitter.com/zygosoji)  
> but if you wanna drop by and chat about twst you’re more than welcome to do so. Thank you all again 🙌


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